


There's A World Out There That We Should See - On Pause

by orphan_account



Series: JeanMarco High School AU [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Hispanic!Marco, M/M, Multi, Pastel!Jean, Punk!Marco, Teen Angst, french!Jean, there needs to be more Pastel!Jean fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco didn't expect a hot french student to be a part of his junior year plans, but hey, when life gives you lemons, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> While I edit the atrocity that is Of Masks and Capes, I figured I could post this baby that's been siting on my laptop for forever. Enjoy!

“Hel- OH! You have metal in your face!” the boy all but shrieked when I turned to face him. He had a slight french accent, it sounded so foreign compared to my mom’s perfect english and my father’s heavy spanish accent. I could hear Ymir’s cackling as she came into the front entrance, where he and my father stood.

Let me explain.

My father, an eccentric Mexican-American man, thought that applying our household to the foreign exchange student program without telling us was a great idea. And because nothing is ever simple with the Bodts, Jean lost his clothes at baggage claim (and is now wearing some old ones of mine after an unfortunate pasta accident) and we hadn’t gotten his mattress in yet (the store hasn’t even shipped it yet). So, here we were, just meeting the kid who’s had the most embarrassing first time in the U.S., now meeting two hella gay punk kids.

Those two kids being Ymir and I. Ymir isn’t actually my sister, after her parents (my mom’s brother and his wife) found out about her being gay, they kicked her out and disowned her. My mom and dad took her in, transforming the guest room into her bedroom. She’s two years older than me, with me being sixteen and her turning eighteen in February. She’s been living with us since I was eleven, and she’s been like a sister. She and I were close, having matching eyebrow piercings and her letting me design her first tattoo (Krista, her girlfriend, is designing the second one).

Jean was shorter than me, by maybe three inches. His skin was very pale and blemish free, from what I could see. He had an hipster like undercut with an ash blond on top and a dark brown on the sides. He wore some of my old clothes (Ymir and I were supposed to take him shopping today), but because I actually worked out and had muscles on me the guy looked like a twig in my clothes. He wore my old black skinnies that he had cut into shorts and my Guns N Roses t-shirt. He looked kinda ( _really_ ) cute.

“Tell me when you plan to screw him so I know when to break out my headphones,” Ymir whispered as she pat me on the shoulder. Thankfully Jean and my dad didn’t hear. I probably would’ve died of embarrassment then and there. I shoved her as she laughed, causing my father to sigh and Jean to look confused. He looked cute, with his brows furrowed like that…

Mom said specifically before dad got here, not to hit on the french guy. Especially because he was supposed to be sleeping in _my bed_ until further notice. I hope the guy won’t mind the darkness of the room, the walls are black and covered in various photos of friends and family, along with band posters. There’s a lot of band posters now that I think about it.

“This is Jean, he’s the foreign exchange student from Montpellier, France. Please don’t go out and get him piercings, I’m pretty sure that breaks the rules he’s supposed to be following,” Dad sighed. Ymir and I nodded. Got it. Make sure the innocent guy stays innocent and we don’t break any international laws.

That fact that my group of friends has to worry about that should scare me more than it does. Then again, when we all start working on a plan together, it can be magical. Connie,  Sasha, Eren, and Reiner get the biggest and dumbest ideas; Eren believes that the rules don’t apply to him; Mikasa, Annie, and Armin make realistic versions of those plans; Bertholdt and Sasha tend to be emotional support and help with keeping everyone fed; Krista acts as the lawyer and finds loopholes for certain activities; then Reiner, Ymir, Annie, Bertholdt, and I are the brawn and carry out shit.

It’s a magical system that has led to many misadventures and being brought home in a police car once. The police car thing was from spray painting Eren’s dad’s car. But Eren’s dad is a tool who deserved it. Honestly, I know, I spent an entire summer in that house, Eren’s dad is a gigantic dickbag. No one likes him.

As dad went to go talk to mom, Ymir grabbed our jackets. Ymir’s jacket was the same one Krista gave to her last Christmas, a dark red leather jacket with rose gold spikes on the shoulders and rose gold zipper. My jacket was one I bought last September, it was black with silver spikes and zipper. Jean just stood and stared at me as I put my jacket on. I guess he didn’t have one. I handed him one of my sweatshirts, internally cringing at the fact that I didn’t have another jacket.

“Uh, Jean, the staring is kinda creepy,” I muttered, not wanting Ymir to notice. She shoved me towards the door, putting her hand on Jean’s shoulder and leading him to follow me. As soon as we got outside, Ymir jumped down the front steps and started towards her car.

“Did the piercings hurt?” he asked as we went down the stairs. We were taking Ymir’s black sedan, Jean and I were going to ride the back and Ymir was driving. We were picking up Krista who would be riding shotgun.

“The peircings? They do at first but then you get used to them,” I shrugged.

Jean’s eyebrows knit together and he looked at me with confusion (still cute). “Why get them if they hurt?” I looked to Ymir, who was unlocking the car as she walked towards it. Glad she wasn’t paying attention, I put an arm around Jean’s shoulders and leaned in closer to him.

“Because I like pain,” I purred in his ear. He went pink and choked out an ‘oh, o-okay.’ How cute.

“You’re so gay,” Ymir rolled her eyes as we got in the car. I laughed as we buckled up, I guess she heard after all.

He seemed to curl in on himself as Ymir drove to Krista’s. I didn’t miss the way he shivered as Krista opened the door, he’s obviously cold. Great, now I feel like an ass.

“So this is the foreign exchange student? Hello, I’m Krista!” she smiled at Jean. Jean returned the smile, as she extended her hand.

“Jean, it is nice to meet you,” he shook her hand. She gasped once she heard his accent.

“French?” she asked, grinning wildly.

“Yes, I’m from Montpellier,” he nodded.

“That’s amazing. I’m on my sixth year of french. I’ve always wanted to go!”

The conversation died down as Ymir discussed the next concert they were going to. Krista wasn’t “punk”, she was actually a bit nerdy, but she and Ymir were going on their fifth year together in November. Ymir was the last person I’d expect to have a relationship that lasted so long, but Krista was one of the best things to happen to her.

“Are you cold?” I asked Jean. I didn’t have to ask, I knew he was; it was a formality. He turned to me, ducked his head, and looked at me sheepishly. He had curled in on himself and crossed his arms. His shivering didn’t help.

“A little.”

“Well that’s what you get for wearin’ shorts in September,” I chided as I begun taking off my jacket. “It’s a little big on you, but it’s warm.”

Jean took my jacket and thanked me before putting it one. He was swimming in it, but he looked really attractive. I’m so fucking screwed. Mom’s gonna _kill_ me.

“So I texted Eren and Connie…” Ymir started. I huffed out a breath. _Great_ …

“Do you want to give him a heart attack?”

“He was going to meet them anyways.”

“What’s so bad about Connie and Eren?” Jean asked, as he pulled up the sleeves of my jacket. He shouldn’t be this cute. Nope. I don’t think he’s cute. The french guy is _not_ cute.

“With Connie comes Sasha, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie. With Eren comes Mikasa and Armin. It’s a lot of people, and they’re very… _flamboyant_. It’s just a lot to take in,” Krista explained. Jean nodded

“Well, what’s the worst that could happen?”

 

\-----

 

He and Eren almost got into a fist fight. That’s the worst thing that could’ve happened, apparently. Granted, I should’ve warned him about interacting with Mikasa. As we were waiting for Connie and the others to meet us at the food court,  I was talking to Eren and Armin as Ymir introduced Jean to Mikasa. Eren heard Jean compliment Mikasa and flipped shit.

“Who do you think you are punk?!” Eren growled, grabbing Jean by the front of his -my- jacket. Jean’s eyes went wide and he held up his hands. Even though he was taller than Eren, he was lankier. Eren also had taken martial arts classes; I had no doubt in my mind that Eren could kick Jean’s ass. He had a right to act like that. Ever since Mikasa begun dating Annie, she’s been dealing with a lot of harassment. But Jean wasn’t harassing her and Eren was just being paranoid.

“Eren,” I snapped, yanking him off of Jean and stepping in between them. As Eren stumbled back, I made sure he didn’t leave any marks on Jean, not wanting to have to explain to my parents why Jean has bruises on him after his first day being in America. “He’s not harassing Mikasa, he’s foreign exchange student living with Ymir and I. Put your fur down.”

Eren huffed, but calmed down, glaring at me slightly before rolling his shoulders back. He looked to Jean and nodded. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just a bit overprotective.” Jean nodded, but stayed beside me. Thanks, Eren, now the really adorable french guy is going to be following me around like a puppy. I really fucking needed that.

“You could say that again,” Mikasa muttered. I turned to see Jean staring at the ground. He looked nervous and his right hand was itching the back of his neck nervously.

“Eren’s a douchebag, don’t worry about it,” I tried to reassure him. Jean looked up and dropped his hand, my sleeve went past his wrist. That’s adorable.

Shit.

No.

The foreign exchange student I’m living with for a _year_ is not adorable. He can’t be, or I’m a dead man.

“I thought he was your friend?” Jean asked quizzically.

“Yeah, but we say shit to each other all the time. It’s how we show that we care.”

Jean nodded and we began wandering around the mall with the group.

 

\-----

 

“We should get him some actual clothes,” I said as we passed _another_ clothing outlet. We needed to focus on the original plan, and get Jean some clothes. I had to walk in front of the group, not wanting to get caught looking at Jean or I’ll never hear the end of it.

“Yeah,” Ymir agreed. She and Krista were holding hands as we walked around. They had stopped caring about judgemental glares they got. I couldn’t help but notice how hesitant Mikasa and Annie were though, still so new to the whole “I can’t do this without someone having an opinion” situation that comes with being in a same sex relationship. I did feel sorry, but I didn’t verbalize it for fear of getting my teeth kicked in. Those two were scary ass women when they wanted to be (which was often).

“I dare Jaeger to buy a pink skirt and wear it,” Connie laughed, nudging Eren. Oh dear.

“I’ll do it if Braun does it,” Eren grinned. Reiner turned, walking backwards, to face Eren.

“How much you willing to pay for that?”

“Twenty-five. Thirty and a slushie if you manage to add a flower crown.”

And thus, the great September Shopping Spree begun. Christa, Armin, and I went shopping for Jean while the others either supervised or joined in on Eren and Connie’s bet.

 

\-----

 

We decided to stick with calmer stores like Old Navy seeing as Jean wasn’t punk like Ymir and I. He seemed really into pastels and more a feminine look. As Krista held up a pair of pink booty shorts to Jean, I groaned and held my head in my hands. Armin looked at me amused.

“I’m so dead, Armin.”

“He seems to like pastels.”

I groaned again. Yes, I am punk myself, and I love piercings and dark clothing, but even I can’t deny that pastel fashion is cute. Especially on Jean.

“Krista just found another pair of booty shorts, they’re white.”

“Noooo.”

“He’s buying them. Along with the pink pair from earlier.”

“Whyyyyy?”

“They found lilac converse and an oversized lilac sweater.”

“Why me?”

“They’re buying it and he’s changing into those along with the white shorts. I’m assuming that’s his outfit for the rest of the day.”

“Kill me.”

Armin laughed as Krista and Jean headed over with two bags each. Krista was smiling as Jean bounced up and down happily before setting his bags down. He seemed much more relaxed when with a smaller group.

“Doesn’t this look cute, Marco?” he asked happily, twirling around. I gave Armin a pleading look. He just laughed at me.

“Sucks to be you.”

I glared at him before grabbing Jean’s bags and walking away. “C’mon, we need to get you some formal wear and find the others.”

 

\-----

 

Formal wear was a mistake for two major reasons. One, we had met up with the others. Eren, Connie, Reiner, Sasha, and a very pissed Annie were all wearing pink skirts and flowers crowns. They caused a bunch of looks as we walked by. Armin and I were taking turns get photos of them and posting them to Instagram. Two, I also had to watch Jean try on suits. I have a weakness for well-dressed men, and Jean cleaned up _excellently_.

“Oh you’ve got it _bad_ ,” Ymir laughed as I watched Jean fumble with buttoning the suit jacket.

“He’s going to be sleeping in my room,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands.

“Yep.”

“And mom specifically said not to hit on the french guy.”

“That she did.”

“What am I going to do?!”

“I texted your dad. He said you can do whatever you want with Jean so long as don’t hurt him and tell your mom that it’s for science.”

“I hate you… Show me the text.”

Ymir cackled as she unlocked her phone. She showed me the text that did indeed say just that. As Jean turned to me, suit jacket unbuttoned and pouting.

“Help?”

Ymir leaned over to whisper to me, “I dare you to bang the french guy.”

I elbowed her before getting up to help Jean. His collar was also turned up, and his tie was crooked. He was a hot mess in a suit. Kill me.

“The buttons are usually difficult when the suit is new,” I commented as I buttoned it, trying to act nonchalant. Thank god for poker nights with Abuelo, I’d never be able to talk to Jean ever again if I couldn’t keep my face neutral.

“Why do I need a suit?” Jean asked as I moved on to straighten his tie and collar. “It’s not that we never wore suits in France, but like, isn’t America less formal about shit?”

“Formal events like dinner parties and stuff. Dad typically brings us to his work parties, he’s a scientist at Smith Tech. We also have the homecoming dance in the beginning of October.”

“Homecoming?”

“It’s a big thing in the U.S., there’s a football game then there's a dance. You dress up and go with someone.”

“Can I go with you?”

I froze, feeling the blush rise in my cheeks. Ymir, thankfully, was the only one who heard. She curled over in laughter, causing the others to look towards us. Jean was even more confused by her outburst. I just stared at him wide-eyed until Ymir spoke, bringing me back to reality.

“We are _so_ keeping him!”

“Jean, no. You go with someone you like.” I made myself busy with his tie, straightening it. Trying to mentally tell the others to stop watching us.

“I like you.”

“Romantically like. Like-like, someone you want to kiss and shit. Not someone you just met.”

“Oh.”

He looked a little disappointed. I sighed, moving my hands back to my sides. I gestured for Jean to look at the mirror, which he did.

“What if I don’t like-like someone by the time homecoming is here?” he asked as he turned, looking at who the suit fit from the side (hint, it fit perfectly).

“Then you go with friends. That’s what I usually do, if I even go at all,” I shrugged. “Do you like this suit or do you want to try on another one?”

“I like this one.”

“Okay. Then go back and change and we’ll pay for it.”

 

\-----

 

“Selfie!” Eren shouted before stopping dead in front of me and causing me to run into him. I stumbled before taking the photo. I looked over his shoulder to see him grinning as I made the weirdest face ever. Both eyes were closed and my mouth was open, it looked like I was about to sneeze.

“Asshole,” I muttered as Eren posted it. I punched him in the shoulder and the shortie laughed.

“Wanna get our hair done together?” Sasha asked me, jumping on my back and tugging at a strand. I caught Jean watching the whole exchange.

“Depends, watchya plannin’?” I asked, moving to give Sasha a piggy-back ride. She giggled in excitement and wrapped her arm around me. Sasha was new to the punk scene, and this would be her first time changing her hair since middle school.

“I’m dyeing my hair blood red.”

“I’ll get some streaks I guess. Red like yours?”

“Yes!”

“Anyone else going to join us?”

“Annie and Mikasa are getting purple tips. Eren’s dyeing his blue.”

“I didn’t agree to that!” Eren sputtered. Sasha laughed, almost slipping off of me.

“Do you _want_ to dye your hair blue?” I asked.

“I want dark green.”

I rolled my eyes and put Sasha down as we neared the hair parlor. The shop owners, Mike and Nanaba (it was their hobby, they work for Smith Tech like my dad) knew us all by name and new that we didn’t need parents permission. They were used to the rowdy crew, looked forward to us actually, and they knew how to do their job.

Nanaba greeted us and got Eren, Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and I into chairs. Mike worked on my hair and Nanaba on Mikasa’s, seeing as getting black hair to have gradient tips that looked bright was difficult. The dye jobs the others got were easy, especially Annie who had naturally blonde hair.

As I waited for the bleach to work it’s magic, I sat across from Jean.

“Is this a thing you guys to regularly?” he asked, staring in what seemed to be wonder.

“Eh, our group yes, because Nanaba and Mike work with my parents and are family friends to everyone’s parents in here, they can dye our hair without permission because our parents have stated that they can work on our hair whenever. The shop next to this is owned by some of their coworkers and is where we get our piercings and where Ymir is going to get her first tattoo in February,” I explained. Jean nodded and looked around the shop again.

I took out my phone and went on Instagram. “Is your phone working here in the states?”

“Yes, why?”

“Gimme your number and Instagram. That way you can see the insanity that is group messages and our picture taking skills.”

Jean laughed and punched in his information. I grinned as I took a photo of him and tagged him on Instagram, letting the others know to follow him. The photo was cute, Jean was covering his face in his hands, but you could easily make out his smile. I added the pastel looking filter (a first for me, but it suited him) before posting it.

“Americans are weird,” Jean muttered as Eren chicken danced around the shop in the apron and hair cap.

“Heard that!” Eren said before chicken dancing towards Jean and I. I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Eren, you’re scaring the rest of my customers!” Nanaba chided. Eren apologized and plopped down next to Jean.

“So, Frenchy, tell me about yourself,” Eren demanded. I sighed at his lack of tact. Jean picked at the end of his lilac sweater.

“What would you like to know?” Jean murmured, still not looking at Eren. Eren shot me a wicked grin before turning to Jean. I had a bad feeling about this.

“Got anyone special? Any lucky ladies?”

“No. I’m single.”

“Any dames catch your fancy here?” Eren asked, going into a posh accent. Why me?

“Dames?”

“Women,” I snapped, glaring at Eren. Eren kept grinning, still looking to Jean.

“Why does it matter?” Jean snapped, scowling. That was the first time I saw him act so harshly with someone. Then again, Eren has a special ability to push _everyone’s_ buttons.

“Just curious. So like, have you-?”

“Eren, that’s enough,” I cut him off. Eren huffed but got up, leaving Jean and me alone. I gave him a sympathetic look. “He means well.”

“Sure,” Jean muttered, curling in on himself yet again. I let him put in his headphones and ignore the world as Mike came over to check on my hair. I couldn’t help but worry, maybe Ymir’s right about me being the mom friend after all.


	2. Day 1 Continued: I Like It, Enrique

After the events at the mall, Ymir, Krista, Jean and I all decided to abandon the group and go to the movies. There was a new Batman movie Krista had been dying to see.

“After the movie, we can go eat,” Ymir suggested. I rolled my eyes.

“The only reason you’re spending any money is because you have dad’s card.”

“Damn straight.”

“Aren’t you gay?” Jean asked. The entire car broke out into laughter. Krista explained what it meant as I teased Ymir.

“Oh, I feel dumb now,” Jean murmured.

“It okay, a lot of things like figures of speech don’t translate well,” Krista assured. Jean nodded. We paid for our tickets, Ymir paid for the too expensive snacks, and we headed in.

About halfway through, Jean rested his head on my shoulder. I tensed, unsure of what to do. Was he flirting? Did he mean to do this? He wasn’t doing this with Ymir or Krista, just me. I let him do that as the movie continued on.

 

\-----

 

After the movie, Ymir drove us to Dot’s Diner. Dot’s Diner was run by an eccentric old man by the name of Dot Pixis who loved all of us rowdy teenagers. He claims it’s because we’re half of his income in the summer, but we all know it’s because he has a soft spot for teenagers that remind him of “the good ol’ days”.

“Are you sure you want Jean to meet The Old Man on his first night in the U.S.?” I asked Ymir. She grinned wickedly.

“Jeany-Boy _needs_ to meet him and eat his food. His diner is the finest one in Trost, and no one can beat that man’s homemade vanilla cones. He’s got some left, so tonight is the prime time before he runs out!” Ymir and I loved the restaurant. We have since we were first brought there. It’s our go to place.

“Uh, Marco?” Jean hesitated after getting out of the car. Ymir smirked at me before grabbing Krista’s hand and dragging her into the dinner.

“What’s up?” I asked, closing the car door.

“Eren talked to me earlier, before we left. I didn’t think much about it till we got out of the theater but…”

“You should take everything Jaeger says with a grain of salt,” I chuckled. “What’s wrong?”

“Is America… bad about expressing yourself?”

I sighed, knowing exactly what Eren said.

“Eren told you to stay with someone at all times in school, didn’t he?” I asked. Jean nodded. “Not everyone is an ignorant douche, but there _are_ some crazy assholes who just want to hurt people. But, take Eren’s advice on that until you get used to everything… What happened at the theatre?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a couple guys made comments. I’m fine.”

“And if you’re worried about Dot Pixis being one of those people, he’s not. He’s super accepting. Even offered to cater Ymir’s and Krista’s wedding,” I laughed at the memory.

“They’re engaged?!” Jean gasped. I shook my head.

“No, but that was the night when Ymir gave Krista a promise ring, so it looked like an engagement.”

“They’re cute together.”

I nodded as I opened the door. As the bell chimed, Ymir whipped around and gave Jean and me a devilish grin.

“Jean, ever drank from a flask before?”

“Ymir, no,” I warned. She pouted as Pixis chuckled at us.

“Don’t think Frenchie would’ve wanted to drink liquor anyways. Doesn’t always mix well with ice cream,” Pixis shrugged before taking a pen and pad out of his pocket.

“What can I get you lot?”

 

\-----

 

Ymir and Christa ended up sharing a milkshake and a couple slices of pizza. Jean just got what I got, which was a cheeseburger and fries with a Dr. Pepper. Ymir, Krista, and I all waited in anticipation as he bit into his cheeseburger.

“ _Mon Dieu!_ That’s delicious. It’s nothing like french food, but it’s really good,” he babbled, eyes going wide. We all laughed.

“Nothing beats a Pixis cheeseburger,” I commented before eating my own. As I was distracted, Ymir stole one of my fires. I glared at her, knowing exactly where this is going.

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence as she chomped down on the fry. Krista went next, moving as fast as lightning.

Then Jean did it. My reflexes weren’t fast enough and I caught him grinning cheekily at me. I glared at him, before glancing down to his plate. I need to make sure I don’t accidentally knock the plate onto his lap. I sighed, seeming to give up. Ymir rolled her eyes, knowing my strategy by now. Jean was still grinning when I stole two of his fries.

“I win,” I smirked before eating them. Maybe this was a little flirty, but it’s all in good fun.

“Dad’s been called to the lab and mom is out with friends. Both aren’t coming till after midnight,” Ymir commented, grinning at me as she stuffed her phone in her pocket.

“Ymir, no.”

“Ymir, yes.”

“No. No parties while Jean is here, you heard mom,” I hissed.

“Since when were you such a goodie-two-shoes?”

“Since we could get in trouble with the French Government.”

“It isn’t that harsh. If the police are contacted, we might have an issue, but everything else should be fine,” Jean commented. Ymir grinned at me.

“Seeing as we _do_ have school in two days, I was just suggesting Krista spend the night and that we introduce Jean to what American teenagers do for fun.”

 

\-----

 

What happened when we got home was Ymir throwing a deck of cards at us and telling us to have fun. She and Krista were staying in Ymir’s basement room for the rest of the night (probably to have sex, let’s be honest) so that left Jean and me alone.

“This is the room you’ll be staying in until we can finish up the guest room. The reason it’s taking so long is because that used to be Ymir’s room, so we had to redo the entire thing. And the stuff we ordered hasn't been shipped yet,” I explained as I lead Jean to my room.

“You’re planning on keeping that as a room?”

“Yeah. Like a guest bedroom for Ymir after she goes off to college,” I shrugged, throwing myself on my bed. “Hope you don’t mind it, it’s a bit dark for your personality in my opinion.”

Jean rolled his eyes as he sat down on my desk chair. I shuffled the deck of cards lazily as I rambled on about how schools work.

“So where will you sleep?” Jean asked me. I shrugged.

“I’m gonna take out the air mattress from the black hole over there,” I gestured to my walk-in closet, “and sleep on that.”

Jean wrinkled his nose at that. “Won’t it be uncomfortable?”

“I stayed will Eren on his floor one summer. It’s not that bad.”

“Why?!”

“Mom and Dad had a business trip, Ymir stayed with Krista, and I was _supposed_ to stay with Connie, but his mom freaked out within the first week of finding out I was gay and I slept at Eren’s.”

“You’re gay?” Jean’s voice was quiet as he asked. Like he was unsure.

“Yep. I’d say gayer than Ymir, but I would be lying,” I said, causing Jean to laugh.

“I thought it wasn’t accepted in America.”

“No, it’s accepted, especially in my group of friends. Some older generations that hate change don’t like us, but you’ll find that anywhere.”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna play cards and listen to shitty pop music?”

“Sure.”

We played (more like I taught) a variety of gambling games until mom texted me at nine to get the mattress out. I sighed and told Jean that he might want to sit on my bed until I get the mattress situated. I dug out the box and brought back into my room. I was so proud of myself for having cleaned it earlier, it makes right now so much easier. I took it out of the box and tried to lay it flat, only to be met with a ripped air mattress.

“No,” I sighed, moving it towards the light and checking. Yup, it’s ripped. I groaned dramatically and flopped on the ground.

“Is everything alright?” Jean asked.

“Nope.”

“What happened?”

“The air mattress is ripped.”

“That sucks.”

“Couch time.”

“Y-you could just sleep with me.”

I cursed myself mentally for taking that out of context.

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

I got up and repacked the air mattress. Once I kicked it back into the closet, I turned to Jean. He was playing on his phone, his shoulders resting on the wall and knees bent, legs acting as a rest for his phone. Why me?

“What do you want to do?” I asked. Jean shrugged.

“Truth or dare?”

I laughed as I sat down next to him. “Really going for the whole, stereotypical all-American experience are we?”

“Definitely. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What is the worst encounter you’ve ever had with a police officer?”

“Gettin’ stereotypical are we?” I teased.

“I met you, remember?”

I thought back, yeah, Dr. Jaeger’s car was the one time I was brought home, but that wasn’t my worst experience. I thought back to my freshmen days.

“I was about fourteen. This was back when I was young and foolish… well, younger and more foolish, anyways. This was back when Bertholdt and I were dating-”

“You two dated?!”

“Yes. Briefly, then we both moved on. Anyways, we were walking back to his house after our date, holding hands like fourteen-year-olds do…” I thought his hand twitched slightly. “...and an officer on patrol saw us. He called me over for a frisk and then proceeded to verbally bash Bertholdt and me for our relationship. I would’ve fought him if it weren’t for the fact that Bertholdt held me back.”

“Oh.” His voice was empty for a moment. Then his eyes brightened. “So, ask me.”

“Okay. Truth or dare?”

“Dare! I’m in America.”

“Hm…. I dare you to cuss like a sailor for twenty seconds straight.”

He turned as red as one of my shirts. “Um….”

“No one is going to be upset, it’s just you and me after all.”

“Well…. Okay. What do I say?”

“Newb,” I muttered, chuckling. A tinge of pink joined the red on his cheeks.

“Um… how about…. Give me a topic, I don’t know!”

“Rant about Eren.”

“He needs to learn personal space first.”

“There’s no curses in that sentence,” I teased him again, putting my hand up to my ear. Jean shoved me slightly as I laughed.

“Um, he’s an annoying motherfucker?”

“Good. Keep going!”

“ _Mon dieu_ , I’m bad at this,” Jean held his flushed face in his hands. That’s adorable…

“I’ll be nice and move on. Your turn to ask me.”

“Okay… truth or dare?”

“Dare. Can't let you be braver than me, French Fry.”

“French Fry? Whatever… Okay. Gimme a second. I dare you to reenact a pickup line you said to someone or someone said to you.”

“God, you really hate me, don't you.”

“You need to act it out too,” he said, grinning.

“No……….” I groaned.

“Yes,” he replied with no sympathy.

“Okay, fine. But then you have to be the girl.” What amI thinking?!

“Okay. What do I do?”

“Just act pretty.”

He held out his arms, displaying the lavender sweater. “Done.”

“Yeah. I get it. You’re a dork.” A cute one, I added in my head.

Or maybe it wasn't in my head. Why was he blushing? No. It was in my head. He was just blushing for no-

Oh, shit. I was staring at him.

And my face was almost as red as his.

“Are you okay?” He leaned forward, resting the back of his hand on my forehead. “Your face is red. Do you feel sick?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, pretending not to stutter. There was something seriously wrong with me. “Okay. So….” Which pickup line did I want to use?

I cleared my throat and strutted forward, leaning against the wall. “Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

He smiled shyly and giggled, pretending to twirl his hair.

I laughed. “What is that?”

“That’s what girls do, right?”

“I know a handful of girls that would kick your ass for that, but sure.”

“Did that really work on her?” he asked, smiling.

“Um….” I hesitated, rubbing my cheek. No, I was definitely not remembering the sting of a slap. That was before I was out… “Let’s just say she wasn't enthralled. Moving on,” I said hurriedly.

He laughed and I wasn't turned on at all. Honestly. Not even a little bit. At all. Nope. No. I was not. No.

“Truth or dare?” I asked him.

“Truth.”

“Why did you come to America?”

He glanced away, biting his lip. And no, not in a sexy way, but like he was nervous or hurt.

“Um, can we- can- How about we play something else?”

“Jean, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jean-”

“It’s nothing, okay!” he yelled, raising his voice for the first time since I’ve met him.

“Okay,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “It’s okay, Jean. Really. I won’t pressure you into telling me.”

Jean deflated, holding his face in his hands. He sniffed and looked up at me. His face was sad but showed no signs of tears. “It’s a… handsy subject.”

“Touchy.”

“What?”

“Touchy. It’s a touchy subject. Handsy is a more sexual thing.”

“Oh.” He smiled faintly. “Right.”

“So… do you want to… build a pillow fort?”

“What?”

“A pillow fort. You know, it’s a fort, made of…. Pillows…”

“I gathered that. Thank you. Um, okay. Let’s make a pillow fort.”

 

\-----

    We were lying in sleeping bags now, exhausted from our pillow fight. Our fort had been rebuilt, much messier than before, but hey, we tried.

    “Hey, Marco,” Jean said quietly.

    My eyes opened. “Yeah?”

    “The reason I came to America...”

    “You don't have to-”

    “No. I want to tell you. I trust you.”

    “Don't let my friends hear you say that. They’d have you put in a mental hospital.”

    “I’m gay.”

    “What?” It was so simple, so clean, so unexpected, that I didn't understand.

    “That’s why I left home. They… they didn't like that.”

    “Oh. God, I’m sorry.”

    “No. It’s okay. I'm here now. I have a chance to be myself.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Land of Freedom and all the bullshit right?” We both laughed. It was a nice change from the previous topic.

“So, want to go back to the game?” Jean asked suddenly. I shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. It’s only like eight and it’s a Friday night. I can start?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, Jean, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to do the first action that pops into your head when I say the word…”

“Are you going to give me a word to base it on or just say go?”

“I think I’ve got a word…”

“Okay.”

“Hot.”

Jean stood and opened the window.

“You sly little shit,” I laughed, totally not checking out Jean’s ass in those booty shorts. Definitely not.

“What?” Jean asked honestly, turning to face me.

“You- never mind. And close the window. It’s fucking freezing.”

“But you said it was hot.”

“I gave you a word. I didn't say it was hot… never mind. You failed. And won. So much.” He closed the window and sat down, noticeably closer than before. Our knees were almost touching, and I will admit I wanted to move closer. I might have if-

“You guys talking safe words?” Ymir asked, walking into the room.

“Marco told me it was hot earlier,” Jean offered, thoroughly confused. I couldn’t help my face-palm as Ymir laughed.

“Safewords can be pretty hot…” I glared at her as Jean just got more confused. “Anyways, I’m thinking Mario Kart in the living room once Krista’s done showering.”

“Sure. Just get out of my room.”

“Will do, little brother.”

She left and Jean turned to look at me. “I’m still confused.”

“I know. When I said the word hot, you were supposed to do the first thing you associated with that word. I guess we had a major miscommunication,” I sighed.

“And what was Ymir going on about?”

“Safewords. It’s uh, sex… stuff.”

“You’re family is weird.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

 

\-----

 

“Take that!” I shouted as I blue-shelled Ymir and passed her. Krista groaned in frustration, Ymir screeched, and Jean may or may not have been watching us in fear.

“You asshole!” Ymir shouted, her voice cracking slightly on the word ‘you’. Krista, Jean, and I all started giggling. She glared at me as Jean finished his lap. I grinned cheekily at her.

“Is there a problem?”

“Sleep with one eye open tonight,” Krista warned, giggling. I laughed before setting the Wii remote down on the coffee table.

“It’s nine forty-five ,” Ymir sighed. “And we’ve literally done everything normal teens do.”

“We could just go to sleep. That’s an option,” I rolled my eyes. Ymir huffed but stayed silent. We all kinda sat there in silence, not knowing what to say or do. Just a still air as we tried to come up with something to do. Jean yawned, covering his face as he did so.

“Well,” he started, rubbing at one of his eyes. “If we’re going to go to bed, Marco and I should-” he paused, pouting angrily at the ground. “Sleep together. Yeah, that’s how you say it.”

The last part was muttered, but Krista, Ymir and I all caught it. Krista’s and eyes went wide as Ymir cackled.

“Marco! What did you do?!” Krista gasped, pointing an accusing finger at me. I raised my hands, trying to convey the innocence that I totally had (at the moment anyways). Ymir gasped for breath.

“Damn, kid hasn’t even been here for a day, Marco. And he’s already talking about bedroom stuff.”

I sighed, holding my face in my hands to hide the deep blush I was definitely wearing. I watched Jean (hopefully subtly) through a crack in between my fingers. He cocked his head, giving Krista a confused look.

“What’s so horrible about sleeping?”

I mentally screamed as it all dawned on us.

He meant _sleeping._

As in actually being unconscious.

I flopped down on the floor, fully prepared to give up on life altogether. Krista laughed before explaining it to Jean. Ymir just tried to roll me around the living room with her foot.

“We _are not_ playing freckled soccer,” I glared at her. When we were younger, before the whole parent fiasco, she and I would try to see who could roll the other farther. It was always a close call, both of us being soccer players. We still played mock games with the others, but after the piercings and unfortunate stigma around gay people, we haven’t been on a real team in years.

“You play soccer?” Ymir asked Jean suddenly.

“You mean football?”

“Yes, you traitorous European.”

“Team captain for three years.”

“Marco, grab the nets. I think our glow in the dark ball still has some oomph.”

Ymir ran upstairs, taking two at a time. Krista lead Jean outside onto the front porch, taking her iPod and Ymir’s speakers with her. I headed to the garage to grab the nets. It was a long time ago when we originally set up the night time soccer nets. Back in junior high, right after Ymir and I were kicked off of our respective teams, we still had gear and a passion for the sport. With Connie’s bastardized version of engineering and Eren’s over-hyper need to stay up past ten, we set up glow in the dark soccer.

There were battery powered black lights duct taped to the two nets, one side in neon pink, the other neon green. The ‘field’ had glow in the dark spray paint out lining it (we touch it up every spring) and so did the ball. There were black lights we installed onto the porch/patio and into the fence, making to the whole field covered in purple lighting. My mother claimed that it would hurt our eyes to do that, but we responded with yolo and kept playing.

“So, how are we setting up teams?” Jean asked as I stomped the spikes into the ground. Once I was sure that the nets weren’t going to topple if we kicked the ball in, I turned to see Ymir who was holding the ball like a war trophy.

“I want to see what Jean Valjean can do. He’s on my team,” Ymir stated, heading over to the lime green net.

“Jean Valjean? Really?” Jean raised a brow. Don’t think about it, Marco. Self-control. Really. It’s like you’ve never met a hot guy. I huffed at my inner turmoil as Krista stretched. I followed suit, needing to focus on anything but Jean.

After Krista held the ball, Jean was at the goal, Ymir and I were ‘offense’ and after Krista drops the ball, she’ll move to the goal. Ymir grinned devilishly at me.

“Ready for some good ol’ sibling rivalry?”

“You know it,” I grinned back. I couldn’t help the excitement, I used to love soccer. This was the only association with the sport that wasn’t tainted for me. I loved this.

Krista dropped the ball, sprinting back to goal. I faked Ymir out, kicking the ball away. She caught on and side stepped, effectively catching the ball and began dribbling.

I couldn’t help but laugh as Enrique Iglesias began singing. Krista and Ymir battled it out as I waited at the midway mark. Waiting for a chance to run in and save the day.

“Baby I like it!” I sang, distracting Ymir. She turned to make a smart-ass comment, and Krista stole the ball.

She kicked it to me and I turned, Ymir realized what just happened and shouted at us. I ran towards a _very_ focused Jean. I kicked the ball in, not holding back, and it was going in-

Then Jean fucking punted the ball like it was no big deal. It sailed by me, then Ymir, and Krista ducked out of the way as to not get hit in the face.

Oh.

Damn.

He’s got killer leg strength.

 _I’m so fucked_.

Yes, Enrique, I like it.

Way too fucking much.


	3. Day 2: Morning Tent Isn't a Thing, Jean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I've recently not been able to get in touch with my editor who makes sure my drafts aren't shit. It's short, but it's like that for a reason. ;) Anyways, here's chapter three! Enjoy!

I awoke, feeling a comfortable warmth.

And something tickling my nose.

Also, something cuddling me?

When did we get a cat?

I blinked open my eyes, rubbing at them before focusing on my situation.

It wasn’t a cat, it was Jean. His body was lying next to me, except his torso, which was on top of me. His hair was in my face, his arms were wrapped around my neck.

The fact that I was so content with waking up like that made me slightly concerned. I carefully maneuvered myself to grab my phone and not wake Jean. He grumbled when I lost balance and almost fell off of my bed, but stayed unconscious. He snuggled closer and shifted his head, now his face was visible and I didn’t have as much hair tickling my face.

I checked my phone, 7:45.

Way too fucking early.

I sighed and placed my phone back on the nightstand. I haven’t been able to sleep in since I started attending school. My body is just so used to getting up early now, that I literally cannot sleep in. It sucks.

I heard Jean groan and he shifted again.

I was very awake when I felt his knee on my crotch.

“ _Chin_ ,” I grunted. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and other _areas_. I bit my lip as Jean stirred.

“Mhh?” He hummed, shifting again and laying completely on top of me, his leg still in between mine.

_Carajo._

_Carajo._

_Carajo._

“Um, Jean?” I said softly. “Y-you’re cuddling me.”

“You’re warm and America is cold,” he grumbled. “Is that why you Amércains eat fatty foods? So you aren't cold?” he mumbled sleepily. I tried really hard not to think about how cute he sounded with his sleepy morning voice and accent. I tried really hard.

I failed.

“We left the window open, that’s probably why you’re cold,” I stated, trying to ignore the situation downstairs.

“Stay here, it's warmer.”

“Jean-”

“Please, _mon nounours_?”

“Uh, sure?”

Jean smiled and snuggled closer to me. I hoped to god he couldn’t-

“You have morning tent.”

“What?!” I squeaked out.

“Morning tent? Your dick is hard.”

I wanted to die right there.

Just let the earth open up and swallow me whole.

Nothing in Hell would be as red as my face was right then.

“I-it isn’t called morning tent.”

"It's not?"

"Morning tent isn't a thing, Jean. It's called morning wood."

“Whatever, go jerk it in the bathroom or somethin’.”

“H-how are you so calm about this?!” I asked, wide-eyed. He should be freaking out and going ‘no homo’ right now.

“It’s simple biology, Marco. I don’t really care… I don’t really care about anything without a cup of coffee or tea in my body.”

I nodded and squirmed a bit, trying to get him off of me with jostling him. He noticed and rolled off of me. I left to go lock myself in the bathroom.

“Do you need lube?”

Oh my god, Jean no.

Don’t act so casual about this shit.

Please.

You’re just making it worse.

“I’m fine!” I squeaked, earning some giggling.

 

\-----

 

I came back out of the bathroom after I was less excited. Well, I had also showered and changed while I was in there. Might as well, right?

Jean was blushing furiously when I got back.

“Is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah, it’s just, um, y-you’re pretty loud,” he mumbled.

I went wide eyed and blushed darkly. “O-oh.” I just made things worse. Fuck my life.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I was racking my brain, trying to figure out if I had accidentally moaned out his name.

“Yeah, whatever. What are we doing today?”

I shrugged, thankful for the conversation change. “Probably just going to stay in and do whatever.”

“I want to get my ear pierced.”

“Sure- wait, what?!”

“I want that one,” Jean stated, pointing at my cartilage piercing. “Except I want a gold stud.”

“Alright,” I nodded. “Why the hell not? It’s no gonna get you in trouble, right?”

He shook his head with a grin. “Nope!”

“Great, go get showered and dressed and we’ll find something to eat,” I smiled.

Jean grinned and got up. He picked up some clothes from the shopping bag we still had yet to unpack. I caught sight of a light blue polyester and white denim.

I went downstairs where Krista was making breakfast and Ymir was nursing a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” I smiled, making myself a cup of coffee.

“Meh,” Ymir grunted.

“Good morning,” Krista smiled.

I chuckled at how different the two were. “Jean should be coming downstairs soon.”

“You’re so obvious,” Ymir chuckled before sipping at her coffee.

“Shut up, Ymir,” I muttered, before adding sugar to my coffee.

“So what are the plans for the day?” Krista asked, trying to change the subject.

“I’m taking Jean to get his cartilage pierced and probably out for lunch,” I shrugged.

“So, you’re taking him on a date?” Ymir asked, raising a brow.

“No, it’s not a date, Ymir,” I huffed. “I’m pretty sure Jean wouldn’t want to date me anyways.”

“You don’t know that,” Krista interjected as she made another plate.

“I do know that.”

“Awe, c’mon, Marco. You could totally land Jean,” Ymir stated.

“Can we please move on?” I asked as Jean walked in. He didn’t seem to know what we were talking about. Thank god.

 

\-----

 

“How much is it gonna hurt?” Jean asked as we entered the shop.

“Not gonna tell you,” I chuckled. “Just relax and focus on how it’ll look afterward.”

Jean winced as I turned to make the appointment.

“Great,” he muttered.

After the woman called over another, I turned back to Jean.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

“Will that help?”

“It did for Ymir and me.”

He nodded as the woman led us to a chair.

“So, sweetie, which stud do you want to have?” she asked as she held up a frame with various studs. Jean bit his lip before pointing to a gold star.

“That one,” he murmured. She smiled and nodded before cleaning up the area.

“Where exactly?” She asked. Jean pointed to the top corner of his ear, a helix piercing. The woman nodded and started prepping the area before marking it with a marker.

Jean bit his lip and reached out for my hand. I chuckled and let him bring my hand closer to his chest. The woman gave me a smile before loading the piercing gun.

“Just look away, Jean. It’ll be done before you know it,” I murmured in what I hoped was a soothing manner. He nodded and stared down at our interlocked fingers. I was thankful that the woman was so quick and efficient. Jean winced but managed to stay still, squeezing my hand tightly.

“Done,” the woman smiled. “You’re all set, darlin’,” she said to Jean. Jean smiled back and thanked her before standing up.

“That wasn’t too bad now, was it?” I asked, smiling at Jean.

“No, but I am not getting any on my face,” he decided. I chuckled and led him to the front desk where he paid. I tried not to think about the fact that Jean still had yet to let go of my hand. Or how cute he looked with that little gold star in. Or how everyone in the shop thought we were dating.

“You two are so cute together,” the receptionist chuckled. I went wide eyed and blushed as Jean grinned.

“Thank you!” he stated before leading me out of the shop. He still hadn’t let go of my hand.

What the fuck?

“Uh, Jean?” I asked as we neared the car.

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you correct her?”

“What was there to correct?”

“She said that we looked cute together.”

“So?”

“Why didn’t you tell her we weren’t dating?”

“That’s what that means?!” he gasped.

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”

“I thought she meant we looked cute, like attractive.”

Oh my god.

“You don’t have to keep holding my hand, Jean,” I mumbled. 

“Oh, right,” he mumbled, quickly letting go of my hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I sighed as I got into the car. Jean followed suit and from this angle I can clearly see that his ear is red around the piercing.

“That looks like it hurts.”

“It does.”

“Do you want to get ice-cream to forget about it?”

“Ymir was right, this sounds like a date.”

Wait.

What?

“I-I, uh, well… Do you want it to be?”

He blushed and turned to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Chin is a colloquial interjection for the word shit, used in Mexico where Marco’s father is from.  
> Fun Fact 2: Carajo is an interjection for the word fuck used in Latin America.  
> Fun Fact 3: Marco’s family did in fact, teach both Ymir and Marco how to speak Spanish, although Ymir’s mother was from Spain, so Ymir has a thicker accent than Marco.  
> Fun Fact 4: Mon nounours is a French term of endearment literally translated to “my teddy bear” and is used for guys exclusively.  
> Pro Life Tip: Never use google translate, always use a dictionary when translating (especially reliable online dictionaries, which are faster). Google translate doesn't understand what slang or saying are and will do a literal translation.  
> Bonus!Fun Fact about me: I live in an Eastern Canadian Town with a high Spanish population, meaning that both languages used in this fic are readily available to me. :D


End file.
